


They Call Me It

by CJ_Walker



Category: Warriors - Erin Hunter
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Official Characters with Original Characters, Parallel Universes, discontinued
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-04
Updated: 2018-01-30
Packaged: 2019-02-10 16:24:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12915678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CJ_Walker/pseuds/CJ_Walker
Summary: "Regardless... what are we even supposed to call it?! Claykit or Clay...pup?"This story takes place right after the events of "A Dangerous Path" from the first Warriors series.





	1. d i s c o v e r y

_The sun glimmered brilliantly through_ the newly broken canopy of trees as a hunting patrol of ThunderClan cats padded though the forest. Despite the misfortunes the forest fire had caused not too long ago, it was a considerably nice day for hunting. As the cats approached the slope, Brackenfur stopped and pricked his ears for any sign of prey. With his mouth wide open, he managed to pick up the scent of rabbit through the acrid tang of old ash. Signaling with his tail for his clan mates to be quiet, the golden-brown warrior silently crept towards his target. With a flick of his head, he beckoned his apprentice, Tawnypaw to move forward with him. It took only a few moments before they saw the brown ears of the rabbit - and quite a large one at that.

 

 _Watch carefully_ , Brackenfur spoke through his eyes to the young she-cat. She responded with a small nod, her own eyes taking in her mentor’s behavior like a grain of sand.

 

The golden warrior’s whiskers twitched with anticipation as he dropped down to a hunting crouch, targeting his prey. It was scuffling through the little remains of plants, trying to find something edible that wasn’t completely poisoned with ash. Brackenfur couldn’t help but feel a pang of pity for the brown creature. As the whole clan knew, the forest fire didn’t just affect their lives, but the prey around them as well.  However, the golden warrior knew that he couldn’t afford to let his sympathetic demeanor get in the way of this catch. Finding a rabbit of this size was more critical than ever to catch, considering that the clan was struggling to salvage even the smallest morsel. The forest was recovering fast, but with leaf-fall dragging the warmth of green-leaf away with its cold, sharp talons, the newly sprouting buds and leaves would soon have no other choice but to succumb to nature’s call.

 

 _Leaf-bare will prove to be a hard one this year_ , Brackenfur thought grimly.

 

However, in spite of their misgivings, ThunderClan would cope with the plight. They always had, and they always will. Although Firestar had not been given his nine lives until a few sunrises ago, the flamed-colored cat had already proven his unshakable loyalty and resolute to the clan. Despite being young, he was noble, wise, and always willing to put his cats above his needs for the better of the clan; for any clan of that matter. The red tom had led WindClan back home after being exiled, helped ShadowClan chase out Brokentail and his rogues, gave food to RiverClan when they could not provide for themselves and exposed the real, treacherous ambitions of Tigerstar to ThunderClan. Every cat had a reason to respect him, for he was truly one-of-a-kind. If anyone could hold the cats of ThunderClan together through their darkest hour, it was him.

 

With renewed determination, Brackenfur sprang from his hiding place to land squarely on the rabbit with puffs of gray ash springing up in his wake. Before it had time to squeal or even figure out what was going on, the golden warrior landed a swift bite to its neck, killing it in an instant. During the scuffle, an undetected stray mouse darted away from coverage and the golden warrior didn’t have enough time to react to the sudden creature.  He then saw a blur of fur whip past him, his whiskers almost taken off by the sudden gush of wind. _Tawnypaw!_ Ashen leaves fluttered through the air as the tortoiseshell scrabbled to get a hold of the unexpected rodent. It was anything but graceful, but the young she-cat had managed to clamp her teeth down to deliver a finishing blow. Turning fully, Brackenfur’s amber eyes gleamed with pride as he saw the prey hanging limply in his apprentice’s mouth. The young she-cat smiled back at him, her head held high with pride.

 

"Nice catch, Brackenfur!" Sandstorm praised as she trotted up to him with the rest of the hunting patrol, consisting of Mousefur and Thornpaw, right behind her. “And great improvisation to you, Tawnypaw!”

 

The she-cat shook her pelt to rid of some debris. “Thanks, Sandstorm!”

 

 “Oh, wow!” Thornpaw gawked as he stared at Brackenfur’s prey in awe.  “That rabbit is huge!" The warrior's only reply was a stifled grunt, considering that's all he could say with a mouthful of fur. He sent silent prayers to StarClan to thank them for allowing his party to come across such rich prey amongst the burned bushes. With the threat of the savage dogs that nearly destroyed ThunderClan gone and Tigerstar seemingly content with now being the leader of ShadowClan, the forest was on a slow, but sure pace to recovery. At the moment, there was little to worry about and so much to be thankful for.

 

_StarClan knows we need a break..._

 

The golden warrior staggered aside to scrape dirt over his prey so that it could be collected later. Once the deed was done, he refocused his attention on the group of cats in front of him.

 

"Alright, so Thornpaw,” Mousefur turned to her apprentice. “What prey can you smell?" The young brown tabby tom straightened up and opened his mouth to drink in the forest scents.

 

"Umm… thrush! But… it’s a faint smell… probably at least a day past.” The apprentice turned his nose to the opposite direction. "Oh, but I think there’s fresh squirrel somewhere nearby!"

 

"Very good." Mousefur praised as she gently let her tail touch his flank. Suddenly without warning, Thornpaw screwed his face, pointing his nose in another direction. With nostrils flaring and mouth agape, he inhaled deeply, nearly causing himself to stumble backwards.

 

“Wait…!” He added on. “There's another scent that's weird... and foul smelling..." Sandstorm drew in a quick whiff before giving Thornpaw an incredulous look.

 

"That's the Thunderpath. Come on, you should know that one." She huffed, ears twitching in irritation. Thornpaw had been an apprentice for a great while now so there was no reason why he should not recognize the Thunderpath scent by now. They all knew that Thornpaw’s warrior ceremony, along with Ashpaw’s and Fernpaw’s, were long overdue. Their den mate, Cloudtail, had been promoted to warrior status but when Bluestar was in reign, she had refused to offer the same thing to the other apprentices, claiming they weren’t ready. This only made the remaining apprentices more determined than ever to prove themselves, only this time to Firestar.

 

The young tom shook his head and pushed on hesitantly with his claim. "No, no… I don't think it's that…” He swiped his tongue over his muzzle, confusion dancing throughout his golden eyes. “The smell reminds me of the nursery but… a nursery that hasn’t had clean bedding in a while?” He gave another rushed sniff. “A nursery with…  _crow-food_?”

 

 _A crow-food ridden nursery?_  Brackenfur’s brow furrowed.  _What in StarClan’s name?_

 

Driven more by curiosity than disbelief, the golden-brown warrior quickly drew in the scents of the forest. His sensitive nose was immediately burned by the acrid smell of charred shrubbery, and he coughed because of it. However, underneath the smell of burned wildlife, Brackenfur managed to get a whiff of Thornpaw’s claim. The young warrior quickly felt mouse-bile rise in his throat. It did smell like a nursery. A dirty nursery. A dirty nursery with _crow-food_. Apart from the occasion nuances that manifested as foxes and eagles, ThunderClan cats were the only animals capable of killing the forest’s prey, and when they did, it rarely was wasted to the likes of becoming crow-food.

 

Brackenfur forcefully swallowed down the bad taste in his mouth. Did something young naturally die, or had that something been killed by a non-clan cat predator that suddenly decided that didn’t want the food anymore? But even the most mangy of animals wouldn’t waste prey given the current state of the forest.

 

Sandstorm flattened her ears and grimaced. “I… don’t understand.” She looked cautiously to her clanmates, giving Thornpaw an especially apologetic blink. “What is that?”

 

 Brackenfur frowned, as he was at a lot of words himself. _Had… had one of Willowpelt's kits escaped from the nursery and gotten lost? Had one of them…_ The golden warrior shook his head in disbelief. There was no way that he was going to entertain that ghastly thought. Willowpelt was too protective of her kits, especially after what happened to poor Snowkit. There was just no possible way that her kits had escaped from under her watchful eyes.

 

But then that brings him back to square one. Why did crow-food mingle with the scent of kit-like smells? It was a possibility that a young animal could have died, given the current state of the malnourished forest but… if it was young, it would be traveling with its mother and the mother of the young one wouldn’t just leave them deceased out in the open; they would bury them to cover the scent. Unless… Unless…

 

Something young had been killed and deliberately left out in the open to attract unwanted attention.

 

Brackenfur’s amber eyes immediately went wide as he began putting pieces of the puzzle together. Judging by the distraught looks Mousefur and Sandstorm were giving one another, their thoughts mirrored his.

 

_Great StarClan, how did we not scent this earlier?_

 

When Brackenfur finally opened his mouth, he found that it was dry. “You don’t... You don’t think that..” He couldn’t even bring himself to finish the sentence.

 

“Fox-dug.” Sandstorm cursed quietly from underneath her breath, no one blaming or reprimanding her for using such foul language. It was completely understandable. The she-cat’s green eyes had turned into mere slits and Brackenfur noted the ginger fur rising on her neck.  

 

“What’s wrong?” Thornpaw and Tawnypaw, looking out of the loop, glanced to their older comrades in confusion. “What… what’s the smell?” Brackenfur licked his muzzle and shifted on uneasy paws.

 

_Surely… surely there was just no way that… This couldn’t be the appalling work of…_

 

“Tigerstar.” Mousefur’s growl was low, her claws retracting in and out through the charred earth. Sandstorm and Brackenfur both flinched as his name was finally spoken.

 

Thornpaw’s and Tawnypaw’s eyes went as big as a full-moons. “W-What?!” They said in unison, their incredulence evident.

 

“It’s Tigerstar.” The older she-cat repeated. “What else could explain what we are smelling?!” Mousefur began to pace back and forth, her tail swishing violently behind her. “That… fox-heart! To pull the same stunt again, in such a short amount of time?! Why I outta…” The rest of her sentence was finished in inaudible grumbles as a paw swiped angrily at a stray twig.

 

Thornclaw gaped at her, his expression changing from shock to disbelief. “No! It… There’s no way he would come back! We defeated him… barely seven sunrises ago!” The golden-brown apprentice’s body began to tremble, but there was a determination flaring in his blue eyes that grew stronger with every passing moment. He refused to believe that the tyrant known as Tigerstar had the audacity to return to cause havoc amongst ThunderClan once again, in such a short amount of time, no less.

 

He couldn’t live through that again… The pain… the suffering everyone went through because of that… that  _tyrant_. His sister, Lostface when through so much… She didn’t deserve any of his cruel treatment!

 

“Thornpaw…” Tawnypaw murmured, her eyes dulled from their usual vibrancy. Anytime the she-cat’s father was brought up, she didn’t know how she was supposed to feel. There was no since of pride, or admiration. No sense of kinship or respect, but at the same time, she found that she couldn’t hate Tigerstar, like her clanmates did. He was a terrible tyrant, but at the same time, the powerful tom was still her father. The few times she had been snuck out of camp by Darkstripe to meet him, he had been nothing but welcoming, even if he had an air of intimidation. If it naught for him, Tawnypaw wouldn't even exist.

 

Although by the way ThunderClan treated her and her brother at times, she sometimes wished that were true.

 

“There’s no way he would return so soon!” Thornpaw continued, his voice rising with each syllable.

 

Mousefur let out a distasteful snort and turned her full attention to her apprentice. “And how are you so sure that it isn’t Tigerstar?”

 

“How are you so sure that it  _is_  Tigerstar?” He shot back. Brackenfur, Tawnypaw and Sandstorm flashed each other horrified looks as they watched the disagreement escalate, their paws frozen to the ground in disbelief.

 

Mousefur pricked her ears upright at the sound of hearing her own apprentice talk back to her. She opened her mouth with the full intention to say something particularly nasty, but she caught her tongue at the last possible second. “I… _am not_  about to argue with an apprentice who’s acting more like a kit than a warrior.” She took a step forward to him, as if to challenge him to say something else. “You are out of line.” She growled through gritted teeth.

 

Thornpaw’s frown deepened as he looked off in the distance, his ground still held. “Well… you’re wrong.” His reply was nearly inaudible, but Mousefur caught it.

 

“ _Excuse me?_ ” The brown apprentice visibly flinched at hearing the tone of her voice. “Just who do you think you are talking to?”

 

Thornpaw swallowed hard, temporarily at a loss for words. “I…” He flattened his ears and hung his head low in embarrassment; he was being unjustifiably rude, to his own mentor, nonetheless.

 

But the young tom just couldn’t bring himself to believe Mousefur.

 

 “Just listen to yourself!” Thornpaw’s voice cracked with barely disguised anguish.  “Why would Tigerstar return so soon after we just waged in a battle with him? A battle that he lost in! What reason does he have to return and why would he be setting out more prey trails? He has ShadowClan to tend to now and those dogs are gone! As we know, several of them, including the leader, fell over into the gorge and the few that remained ran off in fear!” He swiped at a damaged twig; his head hung low to the earth in defeat. “Don’t you see? It… it doesn’t make any sense…”

 

 _…He does have a point._ Brackenfur mused.  _Why would Tigerstar advance with such haste, and with the same tactic, nonetheless? It really doesn’t make any sense at all._

 

It took everything out of the golden tom to not look at the apprentice with pity. “Hey. Let’s go investigate, before any other assumptions are made.” He consoled, placing a paw on the apprentice's shoulder. “Maybe it is Tigerstar, but maybe it isn’t. But regardless, no more bickering about it.”

 

“I agree,” Sandstorm added, shaking her tail to let the fur there lie flat. “We won’t know for sure unless we go scope the area.”

 

Tawnypaw remained silent.

 

Ultimately, Thornpaw shook his head slowly in understanding at hearing the others’ words, his eyes still full of sorrow. He then turned to Mousefur and dipped his head. “I’m sorry.” He muttered.

 

The brown she-cat looked at him for a moment, her jaw tight. Eventually, she let out a deep sigh and calmed her own nerves. She took a step forward and gently bumped her apprentice with her nose. “It’s okay, you’re forgiven.” Turning to Brackenfur, her eyes hardened with determination. “Let’s go figure this out.”

 

The golden warrior gave her a brisk nod, straightening out his posture. “It appears the smell is coming from near Snakerocks. Let’s get moving immediately." All cats of the party swiftly nodded, following Brackenfur out of the clearing and towards the uncanny scent. Suddenly, it felt like someone had cuffed the golden warrior in the gut at the realization of that there may be trouble yet again at Snakerocks. So… if it wasn’t Tigerstar, then what now? What if now it was a hoard of smelly badgers out for the blood of ThunderClan? Or Twolegs doing stupid Twolegs stuff? Whatever the case, Brackenfur had to stay calm for the sake of the party. After all, what would the others think of him if he stood cowering in the corner like some terrified kit? Pushing his worries to the back of his mind, the golden-brown warrior began to slow his pace as the foul-smelling scent became stronger.

 

"Keep down and try not to make too much noise." Brackenfur muttered over his shoulder as he slid on silent paws. "Whatever is out there, we need not to give it any warning that we are here." By now, the scent was overbearing and it was hard for Brackenfur not to cough in disgust as they neared even closer to Snakerocks.

 

Abruptly, Mousefur stopped dead in her tracks, ears twitching vigorously. Tawnypaw, who was still out of it, nearly slammed into her. "Do you guys hear that?" She hissed, glancing around in distaste. Pricking his ears, Brackenfur also heard the noise; it sounded like faint wailing of a kit.

 

"This way, quick!" He hissed as he bolted in full sprint, leaving his clan mates to follow. The crying was becoming louder and louder with every paw step. Now more alarmed than ever, Brackenfur was determined to find the source.

 

_Great StarClan, why is there a kit way out here?_

 

Brackenfur had to force the chill itching up his back to stop when the grass under paw soon turned into solid rock as he fully reached Snakerocks. No one had been here since the incident with the dogs so the atmosphere was dreadful to be in. Eventually after vigorous sniffing and looking, the young golden warrior stopped at a small crevice in a rock wall, finally finding his target. Sniffing one more and staring in horror, Brackenfur finally realized what the unknown threat was.

 

From the group, Thornpaw was the first one to catch up to Brackenfur, panting to grasp his breath. "Did you find the - wait… is that a…?" The apprentice’s amber eyes went wide with comprehension. "A-a-ahh! I-I-It's a d-dog!" He shrank back and ran behind Mousefur and Sandstorm as they were just approaching. Suddenly, he looked like a kit again; hiding from danger behind its’ mother, but no one could blame him. After what had happened barely a quarter moon ago, it's expected that everyone in the clan would be more on edge about the said topic of interest.

 

"Is there… really a dog in there?" Sandstorm inquired uneasily, her claws flexing in and out of her paws. Brackenfur looked from the group to the dog… only it wasn't a dog, but a helpless pup crying for help. It was fairly small; primarily white with patches of orange covering its eyes, ears, flank and tail tip. By the looks of it, it was definitely a different type of dog than the ones that pursued attacks. Those aggressors had pointy ears, long legs and were typically all black or brown. Even though the pup wasn’t even close to being full-grown, Brackenfur could tell that it wasn’t going to get massive. Still bigger than a cat, yeah, but not by much. In the pack, these kinds of dogs were the ones that specialized in sniffing out prey, equipped with floppy ears and shorter legs. Not that it mattered much though. A dog was still a dog at the end of the day.

 

As he continued to observe, the golden warrior then felt his throat drop into his stomach when he noticed the other, similar small bundles of fur just past the pup in front of him. Flies and maggots swarmed the lifeless bodies of the other puppies from the litter. On some of them, bone could be seen sticking through fur. It was a gruesome scene, one that was quickly causing bile to arise inside of Brackenfur.

 

_How awful…_

 

"Don't worry, it's only a pup.” Brackenfur managed eventually, tearing his gaze away from the crow-food. “Its’ eyes aren't even open yet."

 

Mousefur then forcefully stepped forward with her claws unsheathed, fur bristling and lips curled. "Just a pup you say?” She snapped and Brackenfur winced at her harshness. “And what, do you think they are going to stay like that forever? Honestly, young warriors these days think that they know everything!" She pushed on to stand directly in front of the crevice to look at the pup. The brown she-cat then let out a menacing snarl as her claws scraped at the hard rock surface.

 

"Okay so the scent may not have been from Tigerstar, but look at the piece of fox dung!" Mousefur spat. "I say we finish it off right now! It clearly won't survive another night anyway. We’d be doing it a favor." Horrified, Brackenfur felt his mind running like a rabbit that was being hunted. Again, he couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for another creature that he really shouldn’t feel for. The poor thing was all alone for who knew how long, its’ siblings shown no mercy. It wouldn't be fair if the scrap was killed right then and there.

 

 _But… either it’ll die by us, or die from nature,_  Brackenfur realized bleakly.

 

Sandstorm hissed as she moved to get a look at the puppies herself. "They probably belonged to the dog pack and were left here after they all fled..." She mused out loud, also beginning to bristle and unsheathe. Thornpaw was trembling flat against the ground with this tail thrashing violently, trying to make what was happening at the scene. Tawnypaw was pressed close beside him, the dull look in her eyes now replaced with an unreadable gaze.

 

"WAIT!”

 

Mousefur, Sandstorm, and Thornclaw, whom where already on edge, jumped at the sudden outburst from Brackenfur. They all gave him an incredulous look.

 

“I... I don't think we should kill it…" Brackenfur continued as he shuffled on uneasy paws.

 

Mousefur gasped in disbelief and stomped up so that they were nose to nose. "Are you completely mouse-brained?” She challenged him. “In case you haven't noticed, Brackenfur, that is a  _dog_. You know, it's only those creatures that nearly killed us a couple of sunrises ago! Dogs and cats don't mix well together and you're saying we should let it live, after all the pain its' kind has caused us? Are you serious right now?!" Brackenfur tried his best to hold his ground, but being under the wrath of Mousefur could make even the bravest warrior flinch.

 

But still… This pup could have easily been born a kit, and left to die in the forest. How could they abandon it, when they wouldn't a poor kit?

 

"As leader of this patrol, I just think it would be best to take it back to Firestar and… and have him decide what to do with it." He finished lamely, not daring to alter his eyes from Mousefur's cold, amber stare. Her tail slashed wildly as her face scrunched up even further. Just when the conflicted warrior thought he was going to be on the receiving end of a powerful swipe, Mousefur swiftly turned away.

 

"In StarClan’s name, what is with you toms today!?" She hissed. "Do what you want,  _patrol leader_ , but keep that mangy piece of crow-food away from me!" Those last words were thrown over her shoulder as she dashed back to the forest cover. After a split second, Sandstorm and Thornpaw were on her heels, clearly wanting nothing to do with the dog either.

 

Tawnypaw, however, hesitated; unsure of whether to follow her clan mates or stay with her mentor.

 

“You can go,” Brackenfur stated, seeing her dilemma. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to stay with me.”

 

Giving one more glance to the cover of the trees, the young she-cat shook her head firmly. “No.” She slowly moved towards Brackenfur and the pup, her fur rising up on its own accord. “I… want to see things through your eyes. We’re missing something that you're seeing. Help me understand.”

 

Brackenfur suppressed a sigh and turned his attention to the one surviving pup whose tiny, uncoordinated paws feebly scrabbled at the surface of the rocks. Clearly, the golden-brown warrior had cobwebs in between his ears. This was a stupid decision, a new mark of incompetence. Why was he doing this? How was he even supposed to bring this up to the clan? And even worse, what kind of example was he setting up for his apprentice?!

 

“I don’t know why, Tawnypaw.” He answered lamely, sitting down. “It’s just that I can’t help but feel… sorry for it.” The warrior gently scooped the small thing away from the crow-food and placed it at the base of his paws. In response, the pup whined pitifully at the sudden unknown contact. Now getting a good look at it in the sunlight, one could easily see all its’ ribs and bones. It was a skeleton with the pelt of a dog and nothing more.

 

When Tawnypaw didn’t speak, Brackenfur continued, although more to himself. “It’s just an infant, born into an unfortunate situation. It didn’t choose to be born as a dog. It didn’t have control over what happened between us and its’ pack.” He eyes drifted past the pup below him to stare at the hard surface of the rock. “I’m by no means saying that I forgive the dogs for what they’ve done, but I just can’t bring myself to hate something so innocent.”

 

His rambling was interrupted when he heard a choked sob come from his side. Turning his head, Brackenfur was shocked to see his apprentice on the verge of tears.

 

“Tawnypaw - hey! What’s wrong?!”

 

The young she-cat shook her head and gave a sad smile. “Nothing, it’s just… sounds like I have a lot in common with it.”

 

“...” Not even the wisdom of StarClan could give Brackenfur something to say in return, because she was right. Tawnypaw and her brother, Bramblepaw were the offspring of the disgraceful Tigerstar. They were born into a situation that no cat should ever have to go through; a situation that they had no control over. Trust was currently a fragile thing in ThunderClan at the moment. Even with Goldenflower’s persistence, the clan as a whole was having difficulties trusting Tigerstar’s kits. It was just too easy to image what could happen if they... decided to follow in their father’s paw steps. Everyone knew why Firestar chose to be the mentor to Bramblepaw, it was plain as day. However, Brackenfur still even questioned why he was given Tawnypaw to mentor, as opposed to someone with a lot more experience such as Sandstorm.

 

_Especially when you are over here making stupid decisions, such as this one._

 

The golden warrior bent down to bump his nose against his apprentice’s flank. “Hey.” Tawnypaw glanced up at her mentor, surprised to see that he had a flash of humor in his eyes. “When I get demoted to Bracken _kit_ for going through with this, can you be my mentor?”

 

The young she-cat gave a small laugh and playfully pushed Brackenfur with a paw. “You’ll have to wait for your sixth moon first.” The golden warrior let out a quiet _mrrow_ of his own, delighted that his dark humor had lightened the she-cat’s mood, if only slightly. Knowing the mess that he got himself into, there was no way Brackenfur could back out now. He reached down to grasp the scruff of the pup and its pink mouth opened only in a silent cry, as it was too exhausted to do much else.

 

“What do we do now?” Tawnypaw asked, looking to her mentor expectantly.

 

“We return to camp.” Brackenfur meowed through the mouthful of fur. “Come on, it’s getting late.”

 

With a final nod, Tawnypaw followed the golden warrior as he started padding back towards the tree line and into ThunderClan territory. Brackenfur tried his best to remain composed because when they would arrive back at camp, things were bound to be hectic.

 

_Great StarClan, what have I got myself into?_

 

_**______________________________________________________________________________**_

**next chapter - j u d g e m e n t**

Brackenfur finds himself in a troubled spot as he brings the malnourished pup into the heart of ThunderClan. **_ _______________________________________________________________________________**


	2. j u d g e m e n t

_Every pawstep was a struggle._ Even though the pup was malnourished, it became increasingly heavy during the way back. It was getting close to the evening and Brackenfur and Tawnypaw had only just made it to the camp tunnel entrance. The pair were quite surprised to see Sandstorm, Mousefur and Thornpaw standing outside its front entrance.

                              

“We decided to wait for you…" Thornpaw mumbled without making eye contact. All around their paws was the prey they had collected earlier in the day, including Brackenfur and Tawnypaw’s catches. The golden-brown warrior was about to voice his gratitude, but he was unfortunately interrupted by the wining of the pup. It hadn’t made a single noise since Snakerocks, but now it was crying again.

 

“If it continues on like this, cats all the way in StarClan will go deaf!" Mousefur snorted. "Come on, let's get this over with." She bent down to pick up her prey and trotted through the tunnel. Brackenfur and Tawnypaw stared at the party, completely dumbfounded. They couldn’t tell whose side their clan mates were on.

 

"I hope you know what you are doing, Brackenfur…" Sandstorm murmured as she also followed though the tunnel with her prey in her mouth, Thornpaw at a whisker-length behind.

 

_I wish I knew what I was doing, too._

 

Straightening himself with a final deep breath, Brackenfur pushed his way into the clearing, his apprentice right behind him. _This is it._ The anxious warrior felt all of his muscles tense, ready for the confrontation he had in front of him.

 

When they entered through, everything had seemed normal as the golden tom padded through the gorse tunnel. Warriors were sharing tongues with each other after their evening meal, the elders were gossiping around their old stump and the apprentices were squabbling playfully off to the side. Just as the golden warrior began to relax, the pup let out its’ loudest wail ever. Everyone stopped what they were doing and turned to look in the direction of where the pitiful cry had come from. Almost at once, they began to spit and bristle.

 

"Is that a… _dog_?"

 

"What the-?!"

 

"Brackenfur, what in the name of StarClan?!"

 

The golden-brown warrior felt as if he had mouse bile in his throat. Oh, why didn't he think this over? Tawnypaw looked up at him helplessly, as if pleading for him to say something to the allegations. _I don’t know!_  He had no idea how to respond to everyone, and when Firestar soon emerged from the base of Highrock, Brackenfur couldn't move. The red-pelted leader padded slowly to him with a bewildered and shocked expression on his face. His mouth kept opening and closing with nothing coming out, clearly at a loss for words.  Brackenfur then noticed Sandstorm emerge from the steadily growing crowd of cats. The pale she-cat and Firestar exchanged a look that only they seemed to understand.

 

"Brackenfur… what is the meaning of this?" Firestar meowed eventually, his expression now unreadable. Brackenfur took a nervous, deep breath, deciding that it would be best to start from the beginning.

 

"Well, while I was out with my hunting patrol, Thornpaw had picked up an unfamiliar scent." He gave a quick glance to the brown apprentice whose amber eyes were boring holes into his paws. "We followed the trail to a crevice in Snakerocks and that's where I found this pup." He looked down and prodded the thing slightly and it twitched its’ paw feebly in response. "I was shocked to see a pup to be left alone, its’ littermates already turned to carrion. It was clear that it was going to die, but I wasn’t sure what to do with it so I decided that it would be best to bring it to Thun-"

 

"Bring it ThunderClan so we could take care of it? Is that it?" A young, white warrior by the name of Cloudtail yelled. He got up and moved towards Lostface to protectively stand in front of her. "You want us to raise a killer to murder us all?" Brackenfur knew that he was hinting about what happen to Lostface when the dog pack was loose in the forest not too long ago. She used to be a beautiful she-cat, but now half of the side of her face had no fur, eye or ear; just pink, faded brutal scars and gorges. It was the result of the devastating dog attack when she was an apprentice. She was lucky to be alive, unlike Swiftpaw sadly. The golden warrior looked on sullenly at the she-cat of interest. She was staring at the pup in terror and her body was shaking uncontrollably.

 

"No, of course not!” Mind racing, Brackenfur quickly tried to retrace his steps. “What I meant was that I thought… if we could just perhaps umm…” He let out a hiss of frustration, more so directed at himself and his lack of hindsight. “Look, I couldn’t just leave the thing!”

 

“Yes you could have,” A cat whom Brackenfur could not see growled.

 

"Is this how we want to show off ThunderClan?” Darkstripe yowled from the side of the group.  “To show that we’re nothing but a bunch of kittypets with dogs, cripples, and warriors who ignore the warrior code? I say we get that thing out of here now!" Before Tigerstar, formerly Tigerclaw then, had been sent to exile, Darkstripe, Dustpelt and Longtail had been his closest friends. Dustpelt and Longtail lost a lot of their hostility towards others since then, but it appeared that Darkstripe still held venom on his tongue towards anything and everyone.

 

"All in all, it is up to Firestar to make the final decisions, not you, Darkstripe." Cinderpelt, the medicine cat of ThunderClan growled, obviously offended at being called a cripple. The dark warrior's only rebuttal was a hefty grunt as he turned his head. When Cinderpelt was an apprentice, she injured her leg badly beyond repair. Knowing that she could never be a warrior, she turned to the duty of a medicine cat. The gray she-cat then averted her gaze from the dark tabby to her leader. "So Firestar, what do you think we should do?"

 

Firestar glanced from his former apprentice, to Brackenfur, and then gave an especially long look to his deputy, Whitestorm. His green eyes then wandered down to the pup on the ground, his face remaining unreadable. The ginger tom then stood up and beckoned the golden warrior forward with his tail. Brackenfur quietly obeyed, briefly picking up the emaciated pup with him. Now at a closer distance, the young warrior saw that his leader’s green eyes were faintly tinted at the rims with commiseration.

 

“Brackenfur,” Firestar began, his voice as cool as the wind, “I know how you must be feeling. It’s hard to watch something suffer when you know that there is something you can do to help. But this…” The red tom gestured to the limp bundle at Brackenfur’s paws. “This is something completely different.” Firestar then glanced to Whitestorm. “Does the warrior code even allow the coddling of anything other than a cat?”

 

The wise deputy’s brows furrowed thoughtfully. “I don’t know.” He meowed at length.

 

“Firestar…” Graystripe began, his ears flat with hesitation. “While it is… unfortunate what happened to this pup, aren’t we suffering badly enough as it is?” Firestar gave his best friend a long look, his eyes briefly flashing of guilt.

 

“Graystripe’s right,” Sandstorm put in. “Leaf-bare is fast approaching and prey is already scare as it is, due to the fire.”

 

“Not to mention that Tigerstar could be plotting his next attack, and we need to be ready if he strikes.” Longtail growled, his tail thrashing. There were many murmurs of agreement as one by one, cats began to list points that ThunderClan needed to have their focus on. They didn’t need the added stress of dealing with something so… unconventional in their clan.

 

“And to point out the obvious, that _thing_ nearly destroyed us a few days ago!” Cloudtail spat, his mouth ajar in the beginnings of a snarl.

 

“It was Tigerstar that almost caused our fall,” Whitestorm interrupted, his yellow eyes gleaming the collecting sunset. “The dogs were just an indirect pawn to his treachery.”

 

“And it wasn’t this exact dog!” Brackenfur protested. He had to force the fur on his neck to lie flat, the battle of the future of this dog kept wavering dangerously and he couldn’t tell what the endgame was going to be. The golden warrior turned his attention back to his leader and dipped his head. _StarClan, please don’t let them take this the wrong way!_ “With all due respect, Firestar and Cloudtail, I’ll use you as an honest example.” He heard an incredulous hiss come from the white warrior whereas Firestar flicked an ear questioningly.

 

“Go on,” The flamed tom pressed.

 

“Despite the reputation that kittypets have,” Brackenfur began, his whiskers twitching anxiously. “We have proof right here that not all kittypets are lazy and asinine.” Cloudtail’s blue eyes flashed with hot anger while Firestar frowned. _Wait, no! That came out so wrong!_ “Sorry-! I didn’t mean that you are still kittypets, because you’re not! You’re formidable warriors now, despite where you came from.” Taking a deep breath, the golden tom forced himself to relax. “What I’m trying to say is that, it’s not fair to judge the actions of one due to the actions of many. If we did… you both wouldn’t be standing here now.”

 

“Don’t compare me and Firestar to the likes of a mangy, crow-food ridden mutt!”  Cloudtail scathed, clearly having none of what Brackenfur was saying. Firestar lashed his tail to quiet his outspoken nephew.

 

An older, white she-cat by the name of Frostfur then padded forward. “But even so… what’s done is done. Brackenfur brought _it_ ,” She pointed with a paw to the pup. “to ThunderClan. We all see it, and the state that it is in. I can’t say I’m comfortable with this but, if we cast it away now… won’t we be no better than rogues?” More murmurs spread throughout the group of cats, only this time it was unease that edged their mews. How could the clan turn away from a creature that was clearly suffering and pretend that they had never saw anything?

 

A disdainful sniff arose from a dark-furred tom. “Are we _seriously_ considering this right now?” Dustpelt muttered. “Raising a dog, in a clan?”

 

“Well, maybe we don’t have to keep it in ThunderClan forever.” A small, pale gray she-cat mewed quietly to Dustpelt. “Perhaps we can just nurse it until it’s healthy enough to fend for itself.”

 

“Great thinking, Fernpaw.” Frostfur meowed and the young apprentice licked her chest in embarrassment in response. Brackenfur felt his heart race like a rabbit being chased for prey, for he couldn’t believe what was happening before him. _Are cats actually trying to reason with me?_

 

“If we must, I also agree on this option,” Cinderpelt put in. “It cannot be the will of StarClan to let us watch this creature helplessly die, but it also cannot be the will of StarClan to let us bring a dog into the ways of the warrior code.”

 

“Then it’s settled.” Firestar concurred, nodding swiftly. It was clear that the ginger leader was relieved to finally reach a conclusion. “Cinderpelt, please do everything in your paws to nurse this pup back to health until it is fit to leave. In the meantime, cats of ThunderClan,” He paused to give a look around to all his warriors. “I know this is shocking to us all, but as of right now, this dog is to remain in camp, where it will not be harmed.” Many cats began muttering to each other once more, their faces a mix of disbelief, anger and fear.

 

 _No way!_ On the other paw, Brackenfur couldn’t keep his jaw from slackening. _We’re going to keep it!_

 

“What?! But it’s a dog! Why are we-”

 

“It _will not_ be harmed,” Firestar repeated, his yowl silencing Cloudtail’s outburst. “This is no longer up for debate.” The white warrior grumbled colorful words underneath his breath as he stalked off to the warriors den, Lostface following him after a heartbeat of hesitation.  Many other cats in the clearing took his departure as the end to the unofficial clan meeting and began to break up into smaller groups to discuss the latest turn of events.

 

Cinderpelt, however, moved to Brackenfur to pick up the pitiful bundle of fur from his paws. With a single flick of her tail, the gray she-cat directed them both towards the medicine cat den and the golden brown warrior grimaced at the sight of how unnaturally the pup dangled limply in her jowls. He was about to panic when he thought the poor scrap died during the confrontation, but then it opened its tiny pink mouth in a silent cry. _It’s still fighting to survive,_ he noted with a strange burst of pride _._ Brackenfur then horrified himself when he thought from a moment that the pup looked somewhat adorable, despite its emaciated state.

 

On the way to the den, the golden warrior heard a she-cat yell, “Are we going to give it a name?” He turned his head in time to see Firestar freeze and shift on uneasy paws at the question. The ginger tom exchanged a look with his deputy and it was Whitestorm who finally answered several heartbeats later.

 

“No,” The wise tom meowed firmly. “If we name it, we might become attached.”

 

“Attached, to a dog?” Someone out of sight yowled. “As if!”

 

Although it was not directed at him, Brackenfur purposefully ignored the sneer and slipped into the medicine cat den with Cinderpelt. Gently, the she-cat laid the pup down on an empty moss bed and began to inspect it immediately. The ginger tom watched her face screw in a deep grimace as she lightly pawed and sniffed at the scrap of fur.

 

“This is bad.” She mewed quietly, her blue eyes full of concern. “I don’t know anything about the structure of dogs but I know a dangerously sick animal when I see one.” From out of nowhere, Brackenfur watched in horror as the medicine cat nipped at the helpless pup’s tail.

 

The golden tom felt his fur beginning to bristle with anger. “Cinderpelt! Why did you do-”

 

“Hush,” The she-cat completely dismissed his yowl with a flick of her tail. “Did you hear that?”

 

“Hear what?” The golden warrior growled, still upset that the she-cat had bit his pup for no reason. _Wait…_ my _pup?_

_“_ Exactly,” Cinderpelt continued, as she stood up and began to frantically rummage though her herb stores. “A quiet kit might as well be a dead kit and if this pup isn’t responding to any stimuli, then this really bad news.” Brackenfur’s expression quickly changed from anger to dismay at hearing her words.

 

“Then what can I do to help?!” He rasped, his amber eyes burning like the sun with determination. _I did not go through all of this hassle just for you to die!_

 

“For a start, lick its fur the wrong way to get the blood flowing properly.” Cinderpelt ordered through the chewing of some herbs. Brackenfur didn’t wait to be told twice as he dived down into the moss with the pup and began to vigorously lick at its fur. The golden tom was startled by just how cold the pup was and how different its fur felt on his tongue as compared to a cat’s. It was short and almost prickly, as opposed to the longevity and smoothness that he was used to. Throughout his licking, Brackenfur discovered that the little pup was a tom. _Err… male, I guess. I don’t know if male dogs are called toms but if they are, does that mean that female dogs are called she-dogs?_ _And if these supposed she-dogs are expecting, would they be called queens, too?_ Mind spinning with questions Brackenfur knew he wouldn’t get the answers to, the golden warrior continued to dampen the pup with his saliva.

 

Together, he and Cinderpelt worked arduously throughout the rest of the evening on the pup. At several points, many cats tried to peek their way into the den to see what was going on but Cinderpelt had sent them away with nothing more than an aggravated hiss. Once her chosen herbs were chewed into a fine pulp, the medicine cat pried the poor scrap’s mouth open, put them in and rubbed at the pup’s throat so that it would swallow. She then did something similar with some moss drenched in water. With approval, Brackenfur mimicked her actions by sacrificing what would have been his share of fresh-kill to give to the pup. _He needs it more than I do._

 

When the moon was halfway up in the starry sky, the cats finally took their first break.

 

“Now what?” Brackenfur asked, his tongue slightly sore from being overworked. 

 

“We wait and hope for the best,” Cinderpelt answered simply, shuffling to sit down. “That’s all we can do at this point.” Brackenfur noted how the gray she-cat was trying to remain business-like and formal but he noticed the haunted and anxious look creeping at the corner of her blue eyes.

 

“Thank you,” Brackenfur suddenly blurted. “I know this isn’t exactly what you wanted to be a part of but… I appreciate you helping anyways.”

 

“Not like I was given a choice,” She muttered. “But even so… I respect Firestar’s wish, as I too believe that it is the best course of action we can take right now.” She looked over at Brackenfur and the pup and gave a small, wiry smirk. “You look like a queen, protecting her kit from the dangers of the outside world.”

 

The golden warrior felt his pelt flush with hot embarrassment. As he looked down, he didn’t even realize that he had pressed the pup close to his flank, with his tail wrapped defensively around the sodden form. He started to make an effort to move away but Cinderpelt halted him with a raised tail.

 

“Don’t,” She meowed. “He needs warmth and you’re the best cat to provide it for him right now. You’ll have to stay in my den for tonight.” Relieved, but still embarrassed, Brackenfur settled back down and curled once more around the pup. He relaxed when he felt the tiny, rhythmic heart beat of the pup beside him and somehow pulled himself closer to the poor thing. Exhausted from the eventfully day, the golden tom felt himself slipping easily into sleep. There was, however, one particular thought that wouldn’t stop pestering him like a bothersome bee buzzing in his ears.

 

_Don’t become attached?_

 

He gave an inward, dry chortle, thinking back to the jab from one of his clanmates.

 

_Too late._

_  
_

_  
_

_**______________________________________________________________________________** _

**next chapter  -  a w a k e n i n g**

ThunderClan finds it difficult to adjust to life with their new, unwanted guest.

**_ _______________________________________________________________________________**


	3. a w a k e n i n g

_"Absolutely not."_

_"Willowpelt, please," Brackenfur pleaded,_ trying again. "You're his only chance."

 

The silver queen shook her head, her blue eyes gleaming. "Why me? Why can't some other cat do it?"

 

"Because you're the only queen in ThunderClan!" Brackenfur exclaimed. "By the light of StarClan, if I could somehow produce milk, I would take the burden - but I can't." _Actually_ … _I take that back. I don't want to be a she-cat!_

 

Willowpelt gave another hesitant gaze and then ultimately shook her head for a final time. "I'm sorry Brackenfur, but my answer remains the same." The golden warrior couldn't help but let his tail droop in disappointment. "You're a nice tom-cat, but I can't risk putting my own kits in danger like that."

 

"I understand." Brackenfur mewed, his voice crestfallen. Willowpelt gave another quiet apology before turning tail to pad back into the nursery.

 

 _Now what do I do?_ Brackenfur thought, dismayed.

 

It had been a few sunrises since he brought the emaciated pup into ThunderClan. Despite the vigilant efforts from Brackenfur and Cinderpelt, the young dog hadn’t made any significant improvement _._ The gray medicine cat had concluded that the pup probably wouldn’t get better unless it had the rich nutrition that could only come from milk due to it’s illness. Cinderpelt didn’t know if nursing a dog with cat milk would be healthy, but it was the only option they had. Willowpelt was the pup’s only future and now with her refusal, Brackenfur felt foreboding rise up in his stomach like mouse-bile. _What now?_

 

Sighing once more, the golden warrior found himself wandering aimlessly around camp. It was a chilly leaf-fall morning and the sunlight that managed to peak through camp did little to warm the pelts of the cats in the clearing.

 

“If this is leaf-fall weather, then my fur will freeze off in leaf-bare!” Brackenfur heard Speckletail, a pale tabby elder, complain as he walked within earshot of the elder’s den.

 

“Hey! Watch where you’re poking that stick!”

 

“Sorry, Smallear.” Tawnypaw muttered, searching the gray tom’s pelt for ticks. When she found one, she maneuvered a mossy stick soaked with mouse bile to pry the pesky insect off. After taking the dawn patrol, Brackenfur had told his apprentice to tend to the needs of ThunderClan’s elders and afterwards, have the rest of the day off.  As he padded past, the golden warrior couldn’t help but notice how tense his apprentice looked. The young she-cat’s muzzle was slightly wrinkled, as if she was holding back a growl and her vibrant green eyes looked almost irritated.

 

_What’s got her so riled up?_

 

“Young cats these days!” Smallear continued, grumbling. “Although this doesn’t surprise me,” He gave a disdainful sniff. “You’ve got _his_ blood running through your pelt.”

 

Brackenfur halted dead in his tracks.

 

Tawnypaw pressed her ears flat against her head, but ignored his sneer. Pointedly, she drew up her nose and gave a forced smile. “Where else do you feel ticks, Smallear?” She asked, changing the subject. Brackenfur couldn’t help but notice how gritted her voice sounded and he realized that it was probably taking everything out of the young she-cat to not burst out in anger at the old tom.

 

Before Brackenfur could step forward to address the situation, he heard the yowl of his name come from behind him.

 

“There you are!” Dustpelt meowed, padding up to him. “If you’re done playing medicine cat, Whitestorm would like you to join Ashpaw and I on the sun high patrol.”

 

_What, is it forest wide, pick-on-your-clanmates-day?_

The golden warrior felt his pelt flush hot with embarrassment. Over the past two days, he had almost exclusively spent all of his free time in the medicine cat’s den, caring for ThunderClan’s new… guest. Whenever Brackenfur wasn’t in the medicine den, it all he was able to think about and as a result, the young warrior was inattentive to when it came to his active warrior duties. On a recent hunting patrol, Brackenfur let the easiest of catches scramble out from between his paws much to Graystripe’s, the patrol leader’s, disappointment. At the training grounds, he tried to demonstrate a simple battle move to Tawnypaw, but slipped on a patch of leaves and terribly messed up his form. Out of all cats, Darkstripe, who was there with his apprentice, Fernpaw, had to demonstrate how to properly execute the move. The dark tom took great joy in never letting the golden warrior hear the end of it during the rest of the session.

 

“Everyone makes mistakes sometimes,” Fernpaw had tried to put in, but it made Brackenfur feel even more unaccomplished. It was one of the most humiliating moments of his young life, to mess up so badly in front of your own apprentice.

 

 _Tawnypaw…_ Brackenfur thought, reprimanding himself. _I’ve been neglectful not only my clan, but to you as well._ He casted a worried glance back over to the elder’s den. _I must speak with her when I come back to see how she’s doing._

 

“So, are you coming or are you going to age with leaf-fall?” Dustpelt’s jibe snapped Brackenfur out of his thoughts.

 

“Yes, let’s go.” The golden warrior replied, shaking his head to clear it of any remaining negative thoughts. Before the brown tom could give another retort, Brackenfur pushed forward towards the gorse tunnel entrance. As he approached, Whitestorm gave him a curt nod before turning tail to take the lead out of camp and up the first slope.

 

“We’re taking a simple patrol near the WindClan border,” Whitestorm meowed to his clan mates, setting a brisk pace.

 

“Are we going to fight any trespassers when we get there?” Ashpaw squeaked, his blue eyes shining with excitement.

 

“Of course not, mouse-brain.” Dustpelt grunted, clearing a fallen log with ease. “We’re just going there for a simple border check-up. We’ll show you how to place your own scent marker today.”

 

The young gray tom’s eyes lit up even further. “Really? I can’t wait!” Ducking underneath a low hanging branch, the apprentice dashed off at full sprint. “Last one there is a rotten thrush!”

 

“Ashpaw!” Dustpelt yowled, “You get back here this instant!”

 

A deep purr rumbled from Whitestorm. “Let him have his excitement, Dustpelt.” The white deputy let his golden eyes drift towards the broken canopy of the trees. The cool sun was plastering playful shadows onto the forest floor. “I haven’t seen him like this since the death of Brindleface. He and his sister fought with much bravery and strength to avenge their mother, at such a young age no less. Let them have the curiosity and enjoyment of being an apprentice. Besides,” He gave a sly smirk. “if it were Fernpaw, I’m sure you’d have no problem with her being this excited.”

 

Dustpelt’s yellow eyes widened at the remark and Brackenfur found himself fighting to hold in his laugh.

 

“I’m… gonna go make sure he doesn’t get himself into trouble,” Dustpelt mumbled before quickening his pace to catch up with his apprentice.

 

“Whitestorm, you’ve embarrassed the fur off of him!” Brackenfur added cheekily, watching as the dark tom sent leaves scattering into the air at his speedy departure.

 

The white tom gave a hearty laugh. “When you get to be my age, you have the right to poke fun at young romance.”

 

Brackenfur snorted playfully at his comment, skimming around a puddle of thick mud. The two toms carried on with their brisk trot, comfortable silence falling between them. A gentle breeze brushed whiskers to and fro as the sun crept up higher in the sky. By now, they were about halfway to the WindClan border. Brackenfur relished in the comfort he felt from the forest air, even though it was still tang with the smell of ash. The younger warrior had also enjoyed the calming presence that the ThunderClan deputy gave off. It was soothing, and it was almost enough to let him forget about his current troubles and worries.

 

Almost.

 

The golden warrior sighed internally, his mind relaying the events that spanned earlier this morning. He almost didn’t want to return back to camp. He wanted to be outside the boundaries of the clan, so that he wouldn’t have to worry about his responsibilities. His concerns for Tawnypaw and… and…

 

 _Don’t complain now_ , he chastised, _you willingly got yourself dragged into this mess._

 

“Brackenfur? Brackenfur!” Whitestorm’s yowl snapped the young warrior from his thoughts. “You alright?”

 

Brackenfur tipped his head to the side in confusion. “Yeah? Why wouldn’t I be?”

 

Whitestorm gave him an incredulous look. “I noticed you weren’t beside me anymore and I turn around to see you glaring at a tree like it had said something disrespectful to you.” _What?_ It didn’t even register to Brackenfur until that moment that his legs had stopped moving. He was standing a tail-length away from an oak tree, as if he didn’t have the nerve to walk around it.

 

“Oh.” _Did I space out… again?_ “I just really wanted to get a good look at the bark on this tree. Yep, it’s pretty… brown.”

 

The older tom twitched his whiskers and after a moment, took a step forward. “Brackenfur, you haven’t been yourself lately.”  He meowed matter-of-factly. “I heard about what happened at the training grounds the other day, and on that hunting patrol.”

 

Brackenfur flattened his ears at the deputy’s remark. His amber eyes skirted the various wild-things scattered along the forest floor, deliberately avoiding eye contact.

 

“I ask again,” Whitestorm continued. “Are you alright?” Letting out a drawn out sigh, Brackenfur drew his head up and then brought it forward, his brow now resting against the trunk of the tree.

 

“No,” The golden warrior answered, his shoulders sagging. “I don’t even know what to think anymore.” Before the young tom realized what he was doing, he blurted all of his worries to his deputy.  He first spoke of his concerns for ThunderClan’s “guest”, how he wasn’t getting much better. How Cinderpelt had offered that he might, with Willowpelt’s aid, but the grey queen had refused. He then confessed his growing worry for Tawnypaw’s well-being, especially after the encounter she seemed to have with Smallear in the elder’s den.

 

“I’ve never been so troubled in my life,” Brackenfur continued on. “With every mistake I make, the consequences get worse and worse. Am I even doing the right things anymore?” Whitestorm had his brow furrowed deep in thought, the two toms had eventually settled to sit side by side during Brackenfur’s ramble.

 

“Only time will tell,” Whitestorm answered at length. He then changed the topic to something more direct. “You said that you were hoping that Willowpelt would watch over and nurse _it_?”

 

“Yes, but she said that she didn’t want to put her kits into danger.”

 

Whitestorm narrowed his yellow eyes. “ _My_ kits.” He added. Brackenfur felt the blood drain from his face, his mouth going dry.

 

_Oh dear StarClan, how did I completely forget?_

 

“I can’t say I disagree with her,” Whitestorm continued, whisking his big white tail. “Sootkit, Sorrelkit, and Rainkit are barely a moon old. My wonderful kits are already showing great promise, but they could easily get hurt in the presence of a dog.”

 

Mind racing, Brackenfur began to ramble again. “I know, I know. I’m sorry I ever suggested such a stupid thing. I really wasn’t thinking about-”

 

“Is this what you want?” Whitestorm asked, cutting him off with a raised paw.

 

“Huh?”

 

“Do you really and truly believe that this is the only way to make sure that the dog sees a healthy future?” The question was dropped so casually that Brackenfur didn’t know how to react.

 

“Err… Yes...?” The golden warrior shifted on uneasy paws. He couldn’t tell if Whitestorm’s inquiry was genuine or not. “Yes.” He repeated, this time more firmly after receiving a skeptical glance. Yellow met yellow as the two toms stared intently at each other. Brackenfur didn’t dare blink, suddenly feeling the urge to prove to Whitestorm just how important this dog was to him.

_How important it is for me to see him recover, so that he can leave once old enough,_ Brackenfur corrected.

 

**…**

 

 _How important it is from me to see_ it _recover_ , he corrected further. The golden warrior was uneasily aware of how attached he was becoming. At first, it hadn’t bothered him but now, especially how clan life had been over the past few days, Brackenfur realized that he needed to draw back. He still wanted to see the pup regain it’s health in full, but he needed to distance himself a bit. He couldn’t allow himself to get too invested – it was clear that his warrior duties were suffering because of it.

 

After several more heartbeats, Whitestorm was the first to break eye contact. Releasing a hefty sigh, the white tom licked a paw and drew it over the side of his face. “Alright, then.”

 

Brackenfur flattened his ears, not understanding what the tom meant. ““Alright then”, what?”

 

“I trust your judgment.” Whitestorm clarified, standing up. “Young cats of today are the clans’ future of tomorrow. So many of us older warriors are too quick to dismiss anything you all may have to say.” The big tom then turned and tipped his head slightly to Brackenfur. “Once we return to camp, I will speak with my mate and see if I can get her to change her mind.”

 

The golden warrior’s initial expression of shock quickly melted into that of utter happiness and gratitude. As he opened his mouth to yowl his thanks, the deputy cut him off once more by whisking his tail across the younger tom’s mouth.

 

“Don’t thank me yet, nothing is set in stone. Willowpelt has the final decision.” Although his voice was firm, humor shined through in the white tom’s eyes. He jerked his head to the expanse of forest still ahead of them. “Come on, we don’t want Dustpelt and Ashpaw to think we’ve gotten lost.”

 

“Yes, Whitestorm.” Brackenfur replied, his legs tingling with excitement as he also stood. Together, the two toms began the trek once more to the WindClan border, although this time at a much quicker pace.

 

“And about Tawnypaw,” Whitestorm panted, his white paws barely touching the ground. “I think she will benefit greatly if you have a heart to heart with her. She’s a strong-willed she-cat, I have a feeling she’ll be able to overcome any obstacle put before her.”

 

 _Whitestorm,_ Brackenfur thought with admiration,

 

_Thank you._

 

**next chapter -  a n g u i s h**

_With every mistake he makes, the consequences get worse and worse_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay, I had to suddenly send my computer to the repair shop. Anywho, I know this chapter was a bit slower paced but it is still important to the story and I hope you all enjoyed it regardless. I am aiming to make this story, at the very slowest, a tri-weekly updated series. I would love to make it every week, or bi-weekly, but my busy schedule cannot supplement that desire consistently, I'm afraid. There is some good new though! I've actually ended up splitting this chapter into two parts due to it's length. Because of this, the next chapter will be posted very, very soon - like, I'm talking less than a day's time from this update. Hope you look forward to it!
> 
> Anyway, thank you all for the new kudos, views and comments! They mean much more to me than you will ever know.
> 
> -CJ_Walker


	4. a n g u i s h

  _This is all my fault._

 

Brackenfur padded solemnly through the entrance of ThunderClan with Frostfur and Cloudtail following suit. His clanmates were in no higher spirits than he. The golden tom had walked a little too close to the wall of the gorse and got his fur snagged on the thorns. _This is all my fault_ , he repeated, ignoring the stinging pain he felt as he forcefully ripped his pelt from the bush. The moon was starting to climb higher into the sky as the sun fully dropped behind the horizon. As soon as they entered, Goldenflower and Bramblepaw came rushing up to the party.

 

“How’d it go?” The dark tabby apprentice asked first, his amber eyes full of concern. Brackenfur in turn closed his eyes and shook his head in defeat.

 

“We weren’t able to find anything, not even a trace of a battle or struggle.”

 

“Then you clearly weren’t looking heard enough!” Goldenflower spat, grief over-taking her.

 

Cloudtail rolled his eyes, a white ear twitching in irritation. “Look, we all know that I’m the best tracker in ThunderClan and _I_ lost the trail at a rock. If I couldn’t locate it, then no cat can.” Goldenflower growled at the white tom’s comment, but said nothing else.

 

“I’m sorry Bramblepaw, Goldenflower,” Frostfur put in. “But it looks like Tawnypaw left on her own accord.”

 

“Oh, my kit. My poor kit! I have failed her!” Goldenflower wailed, her head dropping in defeat. Bramblepaw padded forward and snuggled his own head underneath his mother’s chin in an attempt to comfort her. Although by the way his dulled amber eyes stared off into nothing, it looked as if the young tom was seeking comfort in the touch as well.

 

_Everything about this is my fault._

 

Brackenfur dipped his head and excused himself from the gathering cats around them, unable to face any of them for any longer. Unbeknownst to him, his paws began to absentmindedly lead him to the medicine cat den. After Whitestorm’s patrol had returned to camp, the party stumbled upon the scene of Bramblepaw yowling in disarray to Firestar. The young tom reported that he hadn’t seen Tawnypaw since she ran away from the elder’s den, angrily yelling about how she was fed up with something Smallear had said earlier that morning. At first, clan assumed she just needed some time alone but after waiting until dusk to see if she would return, Firestar immediately sent out search party to look for the missing apprentice. They had all thought that perhaps she had been taken in light of another one of Tigerstar’s disgusting schemes, but when Brackenfur and his patrol went out to investigate, their findings told a different story.

 

Tawnypaw had indeed, left willingly, and no one knew where to.

_I was going to speak with her_ , Brackenfur thought, utterly distraught. _I was going to tell her that she belonged and cats cared about her, but I was too late. I was too stupid and distracted and now, I am the worst mentor in the history of the clans. I not only lost my apprentice… but a good friend as well._

 

Pushing his head through the lichen screen, Brackenfur padded into the medicine den. He was relieved to see that Cinderpelt wasn’t inside because quite frankly, he wasn’t in the mood to speak with any cat. Clamping his eyes shut, Brackenfur dug his claws into the earthy floor for stability. He saw bright colors briefly flash against his blackened vision at the force of closing his eyes so suddenly. Slowly, the shape of a tiny, tri-colored she-cat emerged in his mind.

 

 _“Wow! Our territory’s so big!”_ _Tawnypaw’s high-pitched voice squeaked. The small remainder of her kit-fluff was brushed out in excitement._

 

_Brackenfur glanced over to her, his amber eyes shining in amusement. “The first time out of camp is always an exciting one.” The golden tom leaped effortlessly on top a fallen trunk. He turned his head to look back to his apprentice, waiting for her to do the same. “This isn’t even half the territory, though!”_

_Tawnypaw’s green eyes widened in disbelief. “No way! I can’t wait to see it all!” She bunched her legs together and sprang up to clear the log, but misjudged the height and had the wind knocked out of her. Before she could tumble back onto to the stiff forest floor, Brackenfur swiftly reached over and grabbed her by the scruff._

_“I’ve got you,” He meowed through her fur as he guided her up the log._

_“Thanks!” Tawnypaw panted, scrabbling to reach the top. “Guess this is a lot different than from that old stump back at camp.”_

 

_Brackenfur purred in amusement before beckoning his head forward. “Come on, I’m going to show you Sunning Rocks next.”_

_Tawnypaw smiled with delight. “Great! Isn’t that the place where-”_

 

Brackenfur’s eyes flew open as he was abruptly interrupted from his memory by a distinct whine coming from the corner of the medicine den. Turning his head, the golden warrior saw the pup wiggling in it’s moss nest. It had smelled, not seen, the presence of Brackenfur and was blindly trying to scrabble its way over to him. The golden warrior let out a drawn out sigh and padded over to the pup. However, once he approached, he didn’t nose it gently in greeting like he always had. Instead, he just… stared blankly at it. The pup managed to wiggle its way underneath the warrior’s paws, seeking comfort, yet, Brackenfur still did not move a whisker. Confused as to why it’s caretaker wasn’t doing his job, the pup whined feebly again.

 

Brackenfur let out a small hiss of irritation, taking a few steps backward. Suddenly everything became clear as moonlight reflecting against the river.

 

It wasn’t his fault that Tawnypaw was gone.

 

_This is_ your _fault!_

 

Brackenfur flicked his tail, his pelt becoming hotter by the moment with anger. Of course! How had he not seen this earlier? Everything was fine before he brought this dog to ThunderClan. It’s caused nothing but trouble and agony since it has been present. If Brackenfur hadn’t brought it, he wouldn’t have even gotten distracted from his warrior duties; distracted from his apprentice. He would have noticed how much Tawnypaw was hurting a lot sooner and would have long talked to her by now. She would still be here if it weren’t for this… _thing_!

 

 _With every mistake I make, the consequences get worse and worse_ , Brackenfur recalled his previous conversation with Whitestorm. _This dog was that first mistake that caused everything to fall apart!_

 

The truth was painfully obvious to Brackenfur now. It annoyed him that he hadn’t listened to his clan mates sooner. He could almost hear Mousefur in his ear saying, _I told you so!_ Shaking his head, Brackenfur’s scowl deepened.

 

_You. have got. to go._

 

Without a second thought, Brackenfur bent forward and hastily grabbed the pup by the scruff. The scrap instinctively went limp in his hold. Dismissing a low growl, Brackenfur turned tail and headed back to the entrance of the den. He briefly set the pup down to carefully poke only his head through the lichen screen. At this point, the moon was well into the sky, shining brightly against the backdrop of Silverpelt. Firestar and Frostfur were seen at the base of Highrock, seemingly consoling Goldenflower and Bramblepaw. At the elder’s den, it appeared that Dappletail was in an argument with Smallear while One-eye and Speckletail tried to maintain the peace.  Sandstorm and Graystripe were sharing a thrush near the fresh-kill pile and it looked as if Longtail was leading Mousefur and Thornpaw on the nightly border patrol to ShadowClan. It appeared that all the other unaccounted cats had already retired to their respective dens for the night.

 

 _It’s now or never_ , Brackenfur thought grimly.  

 

Quickly, the golden warrior drew the pup back into his mouth and, as casual as he could muster, stepped out of the den. He immediately made a bee-line to the dirt place, glancing in every direction to make sure that no one was watching him. Once out of sight, Brackenfur slipped through the small exit behind the dirtplace wall and stepped out of ThunderClan camp.

 

With a final glance to make sure that he was not being followed, the angered warrior began to pad sure-footed in the direction of Snakerocks. However, once he eventually arrived, he trekked past the dreaded place where he first found the pup. He suppressed a shiver as he caught a glimpse of the pup’s deceased kin. They were nothing but a clean, white pile of bones now. As if the pup sensed where it was, it let out a tiny whimper. Blinking deliberately to clear his mind of what he just saw, Brackenfur pressed on, pointedly ignoring the pup. Anticipation rippled him from nose to tail tip at the prospect of what he was about to do.

 

 _It’s the only way,_ Brackenfur kept telling himself. He was getting exhausted from carrying the pup; the sooner he got this over with, the better and then everything could return back to normal. Shortly after he passed Snakerocks, Brackenfur quickened his pace as his destination finally came into sight.

 

The gorge.

The golden brown warrior stopped just before the edge of the cliff. Setting the small dog down, the young tom peered cautiously over the edge. Black water rushed in an angry torrent below him, threatening anyone who dared to enter it. Brackenfur felt his mind spinning just as quickly as the water was moving.

 

Turning to the pup next to him, the tom let out a contemptuous snort. “Look, there’s no hard feelings. This is how it has to be.” Brackenfur was aware that the pup probably couldn’t understand a word of what he was saying, but he didn’t care. “You are a _dog_. I should have never brought you back to ThunderClan but unfortunately, I did and now, I have to make things right again.”

 

“You don’t belong here,” He continued on, briefly surprising himself with just how scornful his growl sounded. “All I have been doing is just postponing the inevitable. You should have died back there with your litter, but you didn’t. I know you must miss your kin but fear not, you’ll be able to see them again soon.”

 

Seemingly satisfied with his reasoning, Brackenfur picked the pup back up. He then unsheathed his claws and firmly gripped his front paws over the edge of the drop for stability. Slowly, he extended his neck so that the pup dangled helplessly in the air over the racing water.

_This is the only way_ , Brackenfur repeated to himself. _This thing has brought this fate among itself. I’m only setting things right again._ He closed his amber eyes and lifted his head higher. He didn’t want to bear witness to what would happen once he opened his mouth. He just wanted to get this over with so that he could go back to camp and forget that this dog ever existed. The clan would awake the next morning and Brackenfur would tell a white lie and say that the dog had gotten snatched by an owl or something. There would be many loop holes in his fable, but Brackenfur would figure out the details of that later.

 

Inhaling a deep breath through his nostrils, Brackenfur shot his eyes open and growled in annoyance. “What?” He mumbled through the mouthful of fur. “Now you chose to be quiet? You don’t have anything to say for yourself?!”

 

The pup remained silent, and Brackenfur was starting to become more hysterical with each passing heartbeat.

 

“You made me ignore Tawnypaw, causing her to run away and you have effectively turned me into the ThunderClan’s biggest joke! Say _something_!” He demanded, his body shaking. “Say something, if you’re not guilty!”

 

Still, the pup remained silent.

 

“Say it!” Brackenfur’s voice hitched as his throat began to tighten. It was becoming harder and harder for him to keep his balance on top the cliff. The golden tom’s body froze as he felt something cool and wet graze his neck. The pup had strained its’ head to reach up and give Brackenfur a lick from it’s tiny, pink tongue.

 

Brackenfur couldn’t contain the sniff that arose from him. He couldn’t do this.

 

_What am I doing…_

 

Slowly, he pulled away from the edge and gently placed the pup back onto the ground. The poor scrap immediately crawled underneath him and snuggled itself against the golden warrior’s paws. Brackenfur was gasping desperately for air, his body weakened from shock. He felt as if his heart was about to leap out of his chest with how hard it was pounding.

 

 _What am I thinking?_ _Getting rid of this dog won’t magically bring Tawnypaw back to ThunderClan, or solve my other problems._ _Even so,_ _why am I even acting as if she’s dead?_ Taking multiple deep breaths, the golden brown warrior attempted to calm himself _._ Brackenfur could barely believe how… fox-hearted he had acted. This wasn’t him. Not even those who despised the pup the most would stoop to this level of treachery.

 

 _“This dog is to remain in camp, where it shall not be harmed.”_ Firestar’s noble words echoed through Brackenfur’s guilt-stricken mind. Glancing down, Brackenfur placed a gentle paw on top of the poor scrap, and the pup wiggled to give it a lick. _It still trusts me, even after I almost…_ He couldn’t bring himself to finish his thought. _Oh StarClan, please forgive me…_

 

Suddenly, the gritty ground underneath Brackenfur began to rumble and shift. He yelped in surprise as he felt his body being tugged down the edge of the cliff. Frantically, the golden warrior scrabbled for solid ground as he pushed himself against the current of the loose dirt. Thankfully, he managed to snag a paw on a chipped rock. As Brackenfur desperately pulled himself up, he turned his head just in time to see the body of the young dog tumble down the edge of the cliff with the dirt-slide.

**next chapter -  disparity**

Brackenfur must atone for his irrational actions.


	5. d i s p a r i t y

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For reading enhancement, listen to “The Way” (Instrumental) by Zack Hemsey with headphones while reading this chapter. Just trust me on this one~
> 
> song link - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oN2Xs-MvxLw

_“Pup!” Brackenfur yowled._

_Without a second thought_ , the golden warrior turned and peered over the edge of the cliff on a section that wasn’t loose. His amber eyes scanned the cliffside for any signs of life. Growing more horrified by the second, Brackenfur began to dart his gaze across the tormenting dark water below, fearing the worst. “Pup!” He called again, helplessly.

 

Brackenfur stood still as he waited for confirmation of life but when he received no response, he wailed in agony. He drew back from the ridge and began to frantically pace back and forth along the edge. His mind was running full sprint like a rabbit in new-leaf. This couldn’t be happening. This _could not_ be happening.

 

“You absolute fox-heart!” He cried out loud to himself, stumbling over his own paws. “You maggot-ridden, mouse-brained, crow-food eating-” Brackenfur’s slew of self directed curses were interrupted by a sharp whimper. Halting immediately in his steps, the distraught warrior pricked his ears. When he heard the same cry again a few moments later, the tom sprang to the edge of the ridge. Cautiously, he dared to peek over the edge of the cliff.

 

As he scanned the area once more, he still couldn’t see any sign of hope. “Pup!” He yowled again, throwing his head back and forth. “Are you there?” Brackenfur received another whine from the small dog, yet, he still couldn’t find where it was located.

 

_He’s still alive! I’ve got to find him!_

 

“That’s it, keep talking to me!” He called, leaning dangerously over the edge. “I need to know where you’re stuck!” As the pup cried out again, one of Brackenfur’s ears instinctively swiveled to pinpoint the source. Standing directly over the sound, the golden brown warrior was dismayed that he still couldn’t see the small dog. However, the steady stream of whines coming from the dog confirmed that he was somewhere right below his paws.

 

Cautiously, Brackenfur began to lower himself, tail first, down the side of the cliff. _Where are you, little warrior?_ Determination conquered the fear blazing through Brackenfur’s pelt. The tom squinted his eyes as loose grit showered him across the face. Slowly, he began to scale further down the cliffside, following the sounds of the crying pup.  He tried not to think about the raging torrent of agony below him, even though he could feel his tail getting splashed with the icy water. One wrong step could send him crashing down and that would be the end of him _and_ the pup.

 

When the crying became the loudest, Brackenfur frowned in confusion. He looked to his side and saw nothing but dirt and a few bits of moss clinging against the wall. _But_ _he’s so close; he has to be right here!_ Hesitantly, the golden warrior reached his paw out and grazed the side of the cliff, his remaining paws gripped tightly against the dirt. His paw slipped inward and he was soon surprised to come in contact with something soft and warm. The pup let out an almost triumphant whine, seemingly content to have Brackenfur in his presence again.

 

“There you are!” Brackenfur sighed in relief. The pup was sitting in a small indent on the cliff, his orange and white fur completely covered nose to tail with dirt and other debris. From the crevice, there was a ledge no longer than a fore-leg jutting from the cliff. The young dog must have hit it on his tumble down and rolled into the hole. 

 

“Hang on, don’t move,” Brackenfur coaxed, shifting his position. “I’ve got you.” Carefully, the golden warrior extended his neck and grabbed the scruff of the small creature. Once he was sure that he had gotten a good hold, Brackenfur looked up. He was dismayed to see just how far he had climbed down; the top of the cliff spanned about three tail lengths away. It was not going to be easy getting back up. Brackenfur’s heart dropped when he felt the soil shift slightly in-between his claws. _I have to get us out of here now!_

 

As much as the golden brown warrior wanted to scramble back up the wall, he forced himself to move one paw slowly at a time. The pup was straining the muscles in his neck but he ignored the pain and pushed on. His next move caused a loose rock to tumble away from his paw and fall down the wall. Out of the corner of his eye, Brackenfur watched in horror as it splashed into the water to never be seen again. Pressing his ears flat along his head, the tom grunted with effort as he continued to climb upward, grit spraying down below him after every move.

 

After a few agonizing moments, Brackenfur had finally broken through to the top of the ridge. He grasped his front paws on the edge of the cliff and immediately hoisted the pup onto the surface above. _Sorry in advance._ He gave the small scrap a forcefully push with his nose, causing it to roll further away from the looming danger and to the safety of solid ground. Utterly exhausted, Brackenfur struggled to lift his hind legs over the edge. The muscles in his shoulders bulged with effort as his back legs scrabbled against the surface wall. He could feel sand, dirt and other debris clogged between his claws and fur, and the warrior wanted nothing more to do than to wade through a stream to cleanse himself. When Brackenfur finally managed to get one hind leg over the edge, he let out a sigh of relief.

 

It was, unfortunately, a premature celebration.

 

Almost at once, the ground began to give away under the new added weight from the warrior. Yowling in terror, Brackenfur was thrown completely off balance and began to slide back down the cliff. Panic stuck the tom as the he slipped further and lost sight of the top of the cliff. He tried to reach out for better footing but caught hold of nothing but air and loose soil. Brackenfur closed his eyes as he realized there was nothing else he could do as he began to fall.

 

 _At least the pup is safe_ , came a bittersweet thought. _This is just the simple consequence I have to pay to atone for my sins. I hope StarClan finds it in them to forgive me._

 

 Suddenly, Brackenfur felt something sharp snag one of his fore-legs and he stopped falling all together. The abruptness of the snag caused the tom to swing back and slam against the wall of the cliff, the wind effectively being knocked out of him.

 

“Come on!” A she-cat’s voice yowled. “Now is not the time to stop fighting!” Confused and dazed, Brackenfur strained his head to look up. Blinking against the showering debris, he was met with the sight of a gray she-cat teetering over the edge of the cliff with an unsheathed paw clenched on his leg. Her other foreleg was tucked stiffly against the cliff for whatever little stability the ground could provide.

 

“Cinderpelt?!” Brackenfur yelled in disbelief.

 

The ThunderClan medicine cat grunted with effort as the weight of the heavier tom began to drag her over the edge. Her lame leg was proving to be a severe disadvantage. “I’m losing my grip!” She growled through gritted teeth. “Brackenfur, you have to climb - _now!_ ” Finally returning to his senses, Brackenfur fought with the might of StarClan to find some type of sure footing. Desperation coursed though his pelt as he still couldn’t locate anywhere safe to hold onto. With every passing heartbeat, Cinderpelt was being dragged further and further over the edge.

 

“I can’t find anything!” He cried, glancing back up to meet Cinderpelt’s squinting blue eyes. “You have to let go of me, or we’ll both fall!”

 

“No!” The gray she-cat yowled, tightening her grip. Brackenfur hissed in pain at her claws dug deeper into his skin, he was sure that it was drawing blood. “I will _banish_ myself to the Dark Forest before I let go of you!” Cinderpelt’s ultimatum filled Brackenfur with both admiration and anguish. She was his clan mate, and she was willing to lay down her life if it meant saving him. Still scrambling to find footing, Brackenfur watched in horror as he saw the beginnings of Cinderpelt’s hind legs peer over the edge. Any moment now, the courageous she-cat would break free from the top and tumble over the edge of the cliff with Brackenfur.

 

Suddenly, the distraught tom heard a surprised yelp come from Cinderpelt and soon, Brackenfur felt himself being pulled further and further up the side of the cliff. At last, the golden tom saw the cover of the forest off in the distance as he was pulled to safety. The dragging didn’t stop until the dirt-covered warrior was well away from the dangers of any lose soil. Spluttering to catch his breath, Brackenfur glanced up in time to see a blazing red tom release Cinderpelt’s neck scruff from his mouth.

 

“I refuse to lose anymore cats to that dreaded gorge!” Firestar exclaimed, concern flooding his green eyes as he sniffed over his two panting clanmates. “I came to look for you both when I noticed that the medicine cat den was lacking in your presence. What in the name of StarClan happened?!”

 

Cinderpelt coughed up a mouthful of soil before shaking her head. Her blue eyes were haunted as she stared at Brackenfur, as if she was recalling a terrible memory. “I-I don’t know. I was returning to camp from herb picking when I heard yowling. I rushed over here as soon as I could and saw Brackenfur slipping over the edge.” She broke eye contact to stare at her own paws. “I was able grab a hold of him right as he fell over, but if you hadn’t come when you did Firestar… we both would have gone over.” She shivered noticeably and Firestar pressed his pelt comfortingly against hers in hope of offering support.

 

“Hey,” Firestar offered softly, “He’s okay, you saved this one. You may not be able to save everyone, but you have always tried your best. StarClan couldn’t ask for more.” Cinderpelt gave a sigh and nodded her head against his fur in agreement. Brackenfur looked on, confused as to what his leader meant.

 

 _Had Cinderpelt not been able to save someone before? Is that why she was so determined to save me?_ Brackenfur figured it was best not to ask.

 

Silence passed between the ruffled cats as they all took a moment to calm themselves. Only the sound of the breeze gently rustling the branches of trees could be heard and the sound of the water crashing wildly in the gorge further back.

 

“Brackenfur,” The ThunderClan leader started, his voice filled with worry. “What were you doing out here?”

 

Brackenfur flattened his ears, his eyes downcast. He still couldn’t believe that he had been the cause of putting his trusted clan mates in danger. “I…” He didn’t finish his thought as he suddenly remembered _why_ he was out here at the gorge in the first place.

 

_Oh… Great… StarClan!_

 

“Where is he?!” Brackenfur yowled, springing to his paws. He began to stagger from side to side, his center of gravity completely skewed. Firestar and Cinderpelt flinched at the golden tom’s rapid outburst as he began frantically checking rock after rock.

 

“Where is who?” Firestar asked, just as confused as Cinderpelt looked.

 

Brackenfur let out a hiss of frustration, ignoring the question. “I need to find him!” He cried, continuing his search. Stumbling over his own paws, Brackenfur sniffed determinedly at every corner. He had to be here somewhere! _Where are you, little warrior?_

 

The golden warrior froze as he heard a familiar, high-pitched whine come from somewhere very close to him. Skirting the edge of a pile of grass, Brackenfur finally found the small dog in a clump of dried shrubbery. The poor scrap was covered with even more debris, almost completely camouflaged with his background.

 

“Oh, thank StarClan…” Brackenfur breathed, his heart lurching up to this throat. Without a second thought, he lunged forward and scooped the pup into his paws. Sitting up on his hind legs, the relieved warrior brought the dirty creature to his chest and brought his cheek down to gently rest against the tiny form. “I’m sorry,” He whispered. “I am so, so sorry.” He gave the pup many vigorous licks, not caring about the grime, and for the first time, Brackenfur purred to him. The golden warrior’s head spun as he felt a strong flow of sentiment course through his pelt, causing him to sob tears of many different emotions.

 

He felt angry, for allowing himself to think so irrationally. It’s what started this whole mess of a scenario in the first place. He felt shame, for almost going through with his ridiculous plan to “set things right again.” He felt guilty, not only for putting the pup’s life at risk, but his and Cinderpelt’s. He felt happiness, seeing that the pup was alive and, although filthy, okay. He felt prideful, for the pup acted courageously and selflessly, even though his life had literally hung in the balance. And lastly, he felt extremely grateful that StarClan had enough mercy to forgive the mistakes of his wrong-doings.

 

Firestar and Cinderpelt exchanged perplexed looks as they watched the golden warrior hug the small scrap for several, long heartbeats. “Why is the dog here?” Firestar asked slowly. “What’s it doing so far from camp?”

 

“ _Him_ ,” Brackenfur declared, glaring with his amber eyes. “Not _it_. He’s not an _it_.” The ThunderClan leader flattened his ears, unsure of how to respond to the golden warrior’s growl. He hadn’t meant to offend or anger the younger tom.  

 

Eventually, the red tabby dipped his head in understanding. “Him.” He corrected, causing Brackenfur’s hard gaze to soften completely.

“Brackenfur…” Cinderpelt started, taking a step forward. “You need to tell us what happened. What happened with you,” She glanced to the tiny form still held in his paws. “What happened with… him.”

 

Brackenfur nodded slowly, gently placing the pup back on to the ground. He kept a protective paw close to the small bundle of fur. The golden warrior let his shoulders sag in exhaustion, the night’s slew of events catching up to him faster than what he was willing to accept. He body felt like it was being pelted with sharply pointed rocks and as his adrenaline wore off, he felt just how badly his fore-leg had been shredded by Cinderpelt’s heroic act. He didn’t mind though because without it, he wouldn’t be able to feel any pain at all.

 

_That’s because I would be dead._

 

Lowering his head in shame, the exhausted tom closed his amber eyes. “I’ve done something terrible…” He started, his voice no louder than a whisper. The golden warrior couldn’t bear to meet their eyes as he spoke, so he stared at the ground instead.  Firestar and Cinderpelt had listened intently, not once interrupting as Brackenfur recalled the events of what happened after his search patrol returned to camp. Whatever they may have been feeling as he further explained, they kept their faces neutral.

 

 _I_ will _make up for my faults,_ Brackenfur affirmed. _Every mistake I make doesn’t come with worsening consequences; it comes with opportunities, and it’s my job to make sure that I take every single one._

**next chapter -  a c c e p t a n c e**

Brackenfur learns more about his clan mates than he ever thought possible.


	6. a c c e p t a n c e

**This chapter’s song of choice is “Nuvole Bianche” by Ludovico Einaudi**

**song link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kcihcYEOeic**

 

 _The next thing Brackenfur remembered_ was waking up in the medicine cat den. Gentle birdsong carried into the den and early morning sunlight streamed through the lichen screen, causing the warrior to squint. He groaned in agony as he sat up from his moss bed, his pelt aching with pain. Glancing down, Brackenfur’s eyes widened as he saw that his fore-leg was dressed in a healthy dose of cobwebs, stained with darkened, dry blood.

 

“Easy does it,” Cinderpelt meowed, padding over to sniff at the wound. “I believe the bleeding has stopped by now, and this poultice here should stop any infection for starting.” Blinking away the rest of the sleep, Brackenfur watched her with warm, amber eyes as she placed the chewed up herbs at his paws. He still couldn’t believe that his little, gray she-cat carried such a big heart.

 

“Cinderpelt…” Brackenfur started, suddenly overcome with emotion. “Thank you… for everything last night. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for-” Brackenfur’s voice was cut off in a silent hiss as the cobweb was peeled away from his fur. “Ouch.”

 

The gray she-cat rolled her eyes at Brackenfur’s dead-pan sound of pain. “You’re too sentimental, you know that?” She meowed, dabbling the herbal concoction onto the warrior’s injured leg. Brackenfur immediately relaxed as the cooling medicine seeped into his heated skin. Cinderpelt then lifted her head and gently touched her nose to his cheek. “You’re welcome, though.”

 

Pulling back, the gray she-cat stared intently into Brackenfur’s amber eyes. “Don’t forget what we talked about last night, yeah? If you ever find yourself feeling… _unnerved_ about this whole situation, don’t hesitate to come talk to me or Firestar. We won’t treat you any differently.”

 

“I know,” Brackenfur replied, smiling with gratitude. “I will, but I think I’m okay now.” After the golden warrior had told Cinderpelt and Firestar what had happened down at the gorge, they had promised to keep the truth only between them, much to Brackenfur’s relief. He couldn’t even image how his clan mates might respond to hearing such news. He was also surprised and grateful that neither of them seemed to be angry or shocked with his actions, but instead, understanding and worried. Firestar had told him that even though he did make a big mistake, the red tom was proud that he was able to realize what he was doing and stop. This revelation had warmed Brackenfur to his core.

_Firestar is such a noble leader_ , Brackenfur had thought in admiration.

 

“Now, as much as I’ve loved your company in my den over these past few days, it’s time for you to move out.” Cinderpelt’s voice cut though Brackenfur’s thoughts. “Unless you want to become a medicine cat apprentice, that is.”

 

“Oh, StarClan no!” Brackenfur gasped, shaking his head vigorously. “But if I leave… who will take care of the pup?” The golden warrior looked all around the den, suddenly realizing that the familiar bundle of orange and white fur wasn’t present. “Where is he?”

 

Cinderpelt’s blue eyes shined brightly as the rays of morning sun reflected off of them. “Why don’t you go step outside, and see for yourself?” She beckoned her head towards the entrance of the den. “Just be careful when you walk, we don’t want your wound to reopen.”

 

Nodding in understanding, Brackenfur swallowed anxiously and started for the entrance of the den. When he padded through the lichen screen, Brackenfur realized it was much earlier that he originally thought. He was sure that he saw a flurry of tails disappear through the gorse tunnel, presumably the dawn border and hunting patrols. There were very few cats out in the clearing, picking over what was left of the fresh-kill pile. Everyone else was still tucked away in their dens, sleeping.

 

 _But where is he?_ Brackenfur thought, distressed.

 

“Brackenfur!” A voice called. Blinking, the golden warrior saw Whitestorm approaching with a blackbird and mouse in his jaws. “I saved you a piece. Sorry it’s not much, prey was shallow.”

 

Brackenfur stared gratefully at the meal, suddenly realizing that he hadn’t eaten since yesterday morning. “It’s okay, thank you.” The two toms sat together to eat, Brackenfur choosing the scrawny mouse. He bit into it eagerly, not bothered in the slightest that it was stale.

 

“How are you this morning?” Whitestorm asked, plucking the feathers off of his fresh-kill. “Firestar told me what happened last night.”

 

Brackenfur choked on the prey in his mouth. “H-he did?” The golden warrior felt his heart drop in disbelief. Panic swelled inside of him. _I know Whitestorm’s the deputy_ _but… Firestar promised with Cinderpelt that he wouldn’t tell anyone!_

 

“Yeah,” The white tom continued, ripping off a chunk from his bird. “Thorn bushes are terrible. I’ve ran full sprint into a few myself when I was your age.”  He glanced down to Brackenfur’s herb-laden leg as he swallowed. “It looks like it’s already healing nicely though.”

 

The golden warrior stared completely dumbfounded at Whitestorm. _What?_ He then had the sudden feeling that someone was watching him. Turning his head, Brackenfur locked eyes with Firestar, who had just emerged from his den. The ThunderClan leader glanced to Whitestorm and once more to Brackenfur, a knowing look settling over his features. Then, something incredible happened. With a handsome smile, Firestar winked one of his bright, leaf-green eyes at the golden tom before padding away. Sudden realization hit Brackenfur as he returned the smile, completely overjoyed.

 

_Firestar, you’re the best!_

 

“Yeah, uhh… yes!” Brackenfur’s paws tingled with admiration as he turned back to Whitestorm. He bit happily into his mouse again, his fur being warmed by more than just the gathering sunlight. “I hate thorn bushes. I’ve learned my lesson to watch where I put my paws from now on.”

 

Whitestorm snickered, licking his muzzle. “I hope so; you’ll be looking like a naked rabbit if you lose anymore fur!”

 

“Hey!” Brackenfur puffed out his chest comically; his exceptionally high spirits making him feel giddy. “I have you know, I’d make for a _very_ good-looking hairless cat.” The two toms shared a good-natured laugh as they finished the rest of their morning meal.

 

“Come on, I want to show you something.” Whitestorm called after they had disposed the remains of their fresh-kill. Tipping his head in confusion, Brackenfur followed his deputy. They padded across the clearing, meowing good morning to awakening clan mates as they went. The golden warrior’s heart began to race as he realized that they were heading straight to the nursery.   _Surely not…?_

 

“Stay quiet,” Whitestorm whispered as he peeled back the fern screen that sheltered the den. Swallowing down his apprehension, Brackenfur nodded and carefully poked his head through the entrance. Before him, he saw Willowpelt sleeping peacefully in her moss nest with three small bundles resting next to her. Sootkit, Sorrelkit and Rainkit were also sleeping, curled up against one another in a pile of mixed kit-fluff.

 

_But… where…?_

 

Brackenfur’s thought was cut off as he saw a fourth shape peer up from the moss. The small orange and white pup, completely licked clean from any trace of the previous night, began crawling on wobbly paws. Stumbling over Sootkit, who let out a tiny, indignant mew, the pup squished himself between Rainkit and Sorrelkit. Once comfortable, he opened his little pink mouth in a yawn before resting his head against Rainkit’s and promptly fell back asleep. Willowpelt, seemingly hearing the mew of her kits even in her sleep, drew her tail over all four bundles and then all was still in the nursery once more.

 

Drawing back from the entrance, Brackenfur blinked away the wetness he hadn’t noticed gathering in his eyes. Whitestorm beckoned him from the nursery and the two toms walked way in silence. Brackenfur glanced up to the white tom, his mouth opening and closing with nothing being able to come out.

 

_What to even say?_

 

Whitestorm looked over and gave a mischievous grin. “ _Now_ it’s okay for you to thank me.” Brackenfur smiled back, bumping playfully into the white tom’s shoulder. He opened his mouth again; fully intent of speaking this time but the ThunderClan deputy cut him off. “But please don’t. My fur puffs out when I’m embarrassed.”

 

Brackenfur chuckled, raising a brow questioningly. “Okay, Whitestorm.” _Thank you so much._ The two toms conversed for a moment longer before Whitestorm padded off to tend to his leadership duties, telling Brackenfur to take the rest of the day off to give his leg proper time to heal. The golden tom walked to the warriors den, realizing that he hadn’t slept inside his own nest in nearly a quarter moon’s time.

 

“You’re in an awfully chipper mood this morning,” Sandstorm purred as he entered in. The she-cat was busy meticulously grooming herself. “It’s good to see you back in the warrior’s den.”

 

Brackenfur gave a smile. “It’s good to be back.”

 

“Listen,” She began, her green eyes softening. “I’m sorry; for how I acted when you brought the dog into the clan. I was worried about everyone’s safety, and it made me act like…”

 

“Like you sat on a porcupine?” Brackenfur finished for her, raising his brow.

 

The yellow she-cat looked downcast, shuffling on guilty paws. “Yeah...” Brackenfur shook his head and padded forward.

 

“Don’t be sorry.” He meowed, offering a genuine smile. “You had every right to be angry.”

 

“But I could have at least heard you out! Maybe tried to see things from your point of view.”

 

Brackenfur touched the tip of his tail to her shoulder lightly. “True, but don’t worry about it. What’s done is done, no need to beat yourself down.” Sandstorm looked at him for a moment longer and then nodded her head in agreement.

 

“I guess you’re right.” She meowed at length. Standing up, she began to pad to the exit of the den. Just before she walked out, she turned to the golden warrior one last time. “The clan will come around, you’ll see. We just need… time to adjust.” She gave Brackenfur a small smile as she stepped out of the den. The younger tom watched her as she went, a feeling of hope rising in his chest.

 

His clan mates perspectives were beginning to change. Maybe things would really work out, in the end.

 

Purring, Brackenfur slunk happily into his own patch of moss, relishing in the feeling of having his clan mates’ scents surrounding him once more.

 

 _I have the best pair of leaders in the whole forest_ , Brackenfur mused as he drifted off into sleep. _I’ll be sure to make them, and my clan, proud._

 

He had learned not only a lot about his clan mates over the past day, but a lot about himself as well. Eager to continue growing as a better warrior and clan mate, Brackenfur couldn’t help but feel ecstatic about what the future promised. The pup was now in the brilliant care of Willowpelt, and he would finally be on his long journey to recovery. Brackenfur knew he had made many, many mistakes, but StarClan had been there to guide him back and even though his heart still ached for losing Tawnypaw, the golden warrior was able to find peace. His former apprentice was smart and strong-willed, and he knew that wherever she was, she was alive and thriving. He was sure that he would see her again.

 

_Take care, Tawnypaw._

 

**next chapter -  l i f e**

ThunderClan is viewed through a pair of eager, new eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aye! And that’s the end of this story’s “Beginning” arc. From now on, I will be returning to my normal uploading schedule (tri-weekly). These last 4 chapters were originally 1 chapter, but I decided to split it up because they all had different tones and it just would have been too long. So, that’s why I’ve had 4 updates over the span of 4 days. Anyway, feel free drop a comment, fav and follow if you enjoyed the story thus this far! Thank you!


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